Page 14 of Verdict

But that didn’t stop Ava’s words from stinging.

Just a little.

Farrah dragged Walker away for a bit. When they returned, he looked calmer, less explosive. I didn’t know what the hell she did—and honestly, I didn’t want to know—but afterward, I was able to take my best friend aside and talk to him.

We ended up outside by the fire pit, sitting in silence. Walker was glaring into it like it owed him something.

I cleared my throat. “I’m really sorry, man. I know that doesn’t fix anything, but it just happened. I didn’t plan this. We’d just won the World Series. Drinks were flowing—hell, you know I’ve always thought your sister was hot… it just sort of happened.”

That wasn’t entirely true. I’d sought her out that night. I couldn’t stay away from her.

Walker closed his eyes and inhaled slowly. “I’ll get past the fact you slept with my sister and that you decided to be a shitty fucking friend. I don’t like any of this shit, but that’s not my main focus right now.” He looked me straight in the eye. “I just want her to be okay. She lives in Austin by herself. We’re all primarily in Primrose Hill.” He paused for a moment. “I need to know you’ll take care of her, Cohen. That you’ll be there,” he said quietly.

I didn’t hesitate. “You have my word.”

“Good,” he ground out. “Because it’s the least you could fucking do.” His jaw flexed as he stared back down at the flames. I could tell he wanted to say more, but luckily for my sake, he swallowed it.

For now.

Chapter 4

Ava

Present day

“Ellie, sweetheart. I know you hate being swaddled, but you sleep so much better like this,” I murmured, gently tucking the blanket around my beautiful baby girl.

Her tiny fingers curled around the edge of the blanket as she squirmed in protest. Ellie had opinions about everything—being swaddled, diaper changes, even which side she preferred to nurse on.

A month ago, I’d been terrified. I had no idea what I was doing. Now I could tell the difference between her hungry cry and her overtired one. I could change a diaper in the dark. I could rock her back to sleep in under five minutes… most nights, anyway.

Motherhood was exhausting, overwhelming, and the most incredible thing I’d ever experienced.

Elizabeth Addison was a month old, and she was my entire world. I hadn’t known love like this existed until I held her in my arms. Elizabeth was my mother, Laurel's, and my middle name. Addison was obviously in honor of my sister.

Cohen had surprised me throughout my pregnancy. We’d kept things friendly, and whenever he was in town, he came to every doctor’s appointment he could. I’d gone into labor while he was in Florida for a game, but he’d left early and chartered my brother-in-law, Dean’s, private jet to make it back in time.

Perks of having a billionaire brother-in-law, I guess.

It was important to me that Cohen and I maintained a solid friendship. Keeping our attraction to each other firmly in check was what was best for Ellie.

I settled Ellie into her crib, switched on the sound machine, and slipped quietly out of my bedroom.

My apartment was a wreck. Diapers, burp cloths, blankets, and onesies were everywhere. A pile of baby-shower gifts sat untouched in one corner, and my kitchen counter was covered in drying bottles. I was breastfeeding, but I pumped too—trying to get Ellie used to a bottle before I had to return to work.

A half-drunk cup of coffee sat abandoned beside the sink, reheated at least three times already that morning. My breast pump pieces were spread across the counter like some kind of plastic science experiment.

I’d always been organized—color-coded calendars, neatly filed cases, perfectly balanced schedules. My life was controlled. I always knew what to expect, or at least was prepared for anything. Motherhood had obliterated that system and that sense of security almost immediately. Now my life was chaos. I was in what felt like survival mode every day.

But in the best way.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

I climbed over a pile of laundry I still hadn’t folded and caught my reflection in the mirror, wincing.

Yikes. I really need a shower.

I opened the door to find Cohen standing there with a box of diapers tucked under one arm and wipes under the other.